Same Old Song and Dance
by eswigag
Summary: "How many more tries does she get?" Anna/Bela femslash. Mind the warnings at the top.
1. Chapter 1

**ATUHOR'S NOSE:** Second chapter already written, will be up soon.

 **Warnings for:** blood, violence, character death, reference to suicide.

* * *

Bela screams, shrill and desperate, a sound that Anna wishes she could scrub from her mind; knows she won't, knows she has to carry it with her for the rest of her life, a scar to remember the price she must pay if she ever falters again to grab Bela's reaching hand; as she does now.

Bela's horrified eyes are on hers; vividly, shockingly green that Anna has never seen brighter or more alive in that horribly ironic moment.

Then the hellhounds are on her, ripping and tearing and shrieking with the human voices of the damned.

Anna screams too, a ear-splitting shriek that angels only sound on the battlefield when they've been dealt mortal wounds, reaches for her with both hands, flaming wings unfurling and beating blasts of holy fire to drive back the dogs, but too late, _God too late._

The hound who survives, biggest of the pack, Lilith's dog, runs back to his mistress with Bela's soul in his snapping jaws, leaving the woman a pile of raw red meat; she is unrecognizable as the terribly brave, terribly smart, terribly human girl whom Anna couldn't heal then, couldn't save now.

Can never save.

How many times has she watched now?

How many times has she thought they got away?

How many times has she failed?

 _Come on, kiddo,_ Gabriel whispers. _Don't. This is what, the eighth time? Lilith ain't letting her go, you know that by now, right? She needs that first seal to break. She's not going to let you steal that from her._

 _No,_ Anna thinks. Numb. For the first time, she welcomes that. She needs numbness to keep his words from reaching her heart.

 _Anna, snap out of it. You're getting worked up over nothing! You can stop this so many other ways! Look bigger picture! I know you like her, but this chick isn't important! You got other pieces you can move, other plays you can make._

If Bela really mattered so little, then why can't Anna save her? _She deserves to be saved too,_ Anna tells him. _She doesn't deserve Hell. She's never going there._ Anna staggers to her feet, turns away from Bela's remains, towards the corner of globe that's still yesterday. That'll make this easier. With hands still red, she plunges into the timestream again, gripping it like a writhing snake, and forces it back. It's getting so, so hard. Like pushing a car uphill. Nothing's working and she's running on hope and vapors.

Suddenly everything snaps into place.

But God, just _barely_.

How many more tries does she get?

Bela curls at the end of the bed like a cat, eyes on the gun in her lap like she wishes Anna weren't there to talk her out of it; the first time, she hadn't been.

The clock on the table reads 11:59.

"Bela," Anna says, a prayer that this time, she gets it right. As Bela turns to look, the angel reaches for her.


	2. Chapter 2

"It's been four days," Bela ventures. She's hugging herself as she circles the floor, circles under her eyes. Anna feels another stab of regret. She wishes she could let Bela rest more. But the hellhounds would simply slip from the waking world into her dreams to pursue her there, with the added advantage of the slipperiness of reality in the mind making it much easier for them to evade Anna and close in on their target. Anna had learned too well that letting Bela sleep too long would be the same as leaving her to die.

Blissfully unaware of how many times she'd died in terror, Bela strays towards the window. Morning light dripped through in golden slats. "Surely they've given up…" she murmurs. "Demons aren't the most focused bunch. Or the most loyal. Maybe they've gotten hungry and turned to eating each other instead. Let's hope, yeah?"

"They never give up," Anna says tonelessly.

"Glad to have you along to remind me of my impending doom, sweetie. Lovely bit of cheer you are." Bela turns on high heel to face her and Anna averts her eyes. It's different now. Angels wouldn't normally find this type of situation so difficult. But then, Anna's not like most angels, is she? That was never easy and she knew it, but now this feels less like trials meant to test her and more like the punishment the others promised God demanded inflicted on her. Coming off the months caged in Heaven and now weeks of failing to save this woman, Anna feels more and more like a pale ghost of herself. Of what was and what should never be.

Bela presses her lips together. "It's been four days, Anna." She twists her mouth into a humorless smile. "Surely the dogs have lost the scent by now."

Anna locks her eyes with her and wills her to understand. To let this go. This has been how Lilith has gotten them, every time. Believing they got away and losing every. Single. Time.

"They _never_ give up," she says again. This time, she puts steel in her voice.

"So this is the extent of your plan, then?" Bela asks, eyes going wide, voice going sharp. "Driving until we can't see them in the rearview anymore, getting cozy in the most God-forsaken wrecks we can find until we start hearing growls, lather, rinse, repeat? For, what? Weeks? Months? Years? Darling, I'm a thief. I make enemies for a living. I do appreciate knowing when to make yourself scarce. And I do understand that this is a rather sticky situation I've landed myself in. But I _refuse_ to spend the rest of my life on the run with a pack of hellhounds at my heels. I didn't sign my life away to spend it scared."

"You won't," Anna starts, then Bela cuts in, "Good. Because we are ending this tonight. I damn well can't spend another night in this place… or one of your _other_ premium properties."

Anna feels sick at heart. Honestly, she'd been buying time, trying desperately to figure out how to salvage her plan. She doesn't see herself being able to put down another pack of hellhounds in her condition. And if she did, Lilith would only send more. Or come after them herself. Eventually Anna would fail again and Bela would die, this time for good. And perhaps Anna would die with her.

(The others would approve. They'd say that Anna died learning the errors of her ways, and then, and only then, would they pray for forgiveness and mercy on her from the Lord.)

(Cass might not. She didn't understand him anymore. He'd changed. She doubted he prayed anymore.)

No. Anna's parents didn't raise a pessimist, or a quitter. They raised someone they trusted to be as good and honest and diligent a person as they were. To be a force for change for the better.

Bela isn't asking the impossible. She's asking for Anna to come through for her. For Anna to make good on her promise.

Because Anna _had_ promised. She would save everyone. Including the woman who would be left in Hell if Anna didn't intervene.

Bela Talbot will be saved.

Anna Milton draws herself up; girl, not ghost; force, not fear; and meets Bela's eye.

"Okay," she says. "Okay. Then we plan and we start planning. Now."


End file.
